Never Again
This is a small story inspired by my sadness for those with uncurable diseses and by the nurses and loved ones that try to make it all better. I'm not sure how good it will be, but it was a spur-of-the-moment thing that I had to do after I read Forestpaw13's blog about maybe having some type of cancer. The prologue is just a discription of what's going on. I, the author of The Scruffs' Series, now present to you, Never Again. RainfireThe Scruffs' 18:59, May 15, 2010 (UTC) Prologue The Clans are in a delema. Cats are being struck down by an unknown disese. There are many medicine cats and volenteers, but the sick cats just keep getting worse. Because of the fear of the disese spreading, the sick cats have been transported away from their Clans and into a new territory where only medicine cats and volenteers can be. Generally, this sickness only affects kits and elders, but this sickness is staring to affect Warriors and sometimes apprentices. The air in this new territory is thick with fear and sickness. Even here, where cats are treated and taken care of, cats rarely make it out of the new territory alive. Beauty and good health are no more. Only sick and loss of hope dwell here. Chapter 1 Never again will these cats be normal. Never again will they experience joy. Never again will they see the light of hope, for hope does not stay for long. In this place, only the brave medicine cats and volenteers dare to see us. Those poor medicine cats. They deal with the unforgiving guilt of not being able to save these cats. I am one of these cats. I haven't seen my family and friends in so long, that I have begun to forget their faces. Out of the hundreds of cats that enter this realm, ten cats have gotten out. Alive, that is. I have watched cats die around me. I even watched my dear brother squirm untill the sickness took his life away. He was so young, so strong, yet the sickness got to him. This uncurable sickness that eats you away from the inside out. I feel that pain now. I know I will not last long, even the kind medicine cat, Flameheart, that tries to take care of me knows it. I watch every day as he checks up on me, his face looking older than ever, and the hope in his eyes starts to die. Flameheart is such a young cat. He doesn't deserve to see us Warriors like this. Today when he checks up on me, I can see that there is no more hope, only utter defeat as he realizes that he can't save me or the many other suffering cats. "How are you today?" he asks. "Getting worse," I rasp. Those are the words we exchange every day. I used to be healthy and beautiful, just like all of these cats, but now my dark gray pelt is matted and my white paws stained with the blood that comes with my hacking coughs. I imagine my misty blue eyes are probably dull with pain and grief. Grief for remembering my brother, Timbertrail, dieing next to me. For my mother, Whitestar, who was one of the first elder cats to give in to the disese. For never getting to say goodbye to my kits. "Ashcreek, I'm so sorry," Flameheart said softly as he checked my wounds. Any wound that a cat might have recieved, that is not fully healed, gets reopened when they have the sickness. I stared off, my gaze wandering among the rows of nests occupied by other sick cats. I spotted a familiar cat weaving among the rows toward me. It was a long legged white tom with blue eyes full of worry. It was Springcreek, my mate. When he approached me, the slight hope in his eyes died away. "Please tell me you're not sick too," I managed to wheeze before a bout of coughs racked my body. "No. I came to see if you were getting better..." he trailed off. "I'm not. I know I'm going to die. Please tell me if my kits are OK and then get out of here," I said softly. "They're OK, Ashcreek," he said and pressed his nose to my forehead. We stayed like that for a long time. Springcreek was shaking with grief. He moved away from me and looked at Flameheart. "I don't want her to die like this," he whispered. "We can't cure her, but there is one way we can get rid of her misery," Flameheart said sadly. I knew what that was. I had seen it used on other cats before. They usually only used it when cats were in so much pain that they were racked with convulsions, but family members could use it if they want the sick one to die in peace. "Deathberries?" Springcreek murmured. Flameheart nodded. "Deathberries," he confirmed. Springcreek looked at me. "Why not? I'm going to die anyway," I murmured to him. Flameheart sadly rolled some deathberries over to me. I lapped them up. They were the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. I could already feel my paws numbing. "You were my favorite patient," Flameheart said and stroked my pelt with his tail. Springcreek curled around me and sighed sadly. I closed my eyes as my body went numb and prepared to meet StarClan. I would never again feel the heat of a battle. Never again feel the rush of a hunt or the joy of my kits. But never again would I feel this pain. Never again. A/N: Wow. I'm shaking right now. Tell me what y'all thought, please. WarriorcatZ, you can Beta Read this if you like. Hope everyone liked it. RainfireThe Scruffs' 18:59, May 15, 2010 (UTC) Category:Fan Fictions